<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>never say goodbye by orphan_account</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29881335">never say goodbye</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Inspired by Extraordinary You, Inspired by K-Drama | Korean Drama, M/M, One Shot, Strangers to Lovers, not that angsty tbh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:08:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,819</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29881335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>even if the world changes, i won’t change / will you promise me?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>never say goodbye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>as said in the tags, this was inspired by extraordinary you, and neverending story by stray kids. indonesian version posted on my write as blog.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The lack of a limelight makes a person humble—this is something Eren learned while at the academy. When the world gives you nothing more than pale hues for your hair, or only uses your voice for a simple, “Hi!”, you learn to expect less. You learn to expect that you won’t have anything in place of the dreams that the world gives you at night; an irony, really, because why would you have dreams if they were out of reach anyway? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren grew used to the fact that he was merely a side character, and accepted that just having a name was already a blessing. Of course, what are you supposed to do when the story of your own birth isn’t even written? What are you supposed to do when your existence is meant to serve a play where you don’t even take center stage? Resisting the author’s wishes for him would be like resisting God—meaningless, for he didn’t even know if the person holding the pen would hear his prayers, much less grant them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Eren woke up every day, in the beautifully drawn boarding school, living his life the only way he could—by doing only what was expected of him, only reading out the lines that were written for him in the script, then going back to sleep like a ghost would walk back into its grave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is, until—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Eren furrowed his eyebrows, his shoulder hurting as he looked down at his books that were thrown onto the floor. “Watch where you’re going!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren’s eyes were met with a pair of brown ones that looked like caramel in the sunlight. The stranger stood there in shock—Eren assumed it was at the fact that he’d just bumped into someone else. But why would that matter? Eren was nothing but a mere side character, anyways. Why would he matter to this stranger?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The truth was, who Eren was didn’t matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that moment, the light-brown-haired male couldn’t focus on anything; his mind blurred into a gathering of lights, as delicate as glowing fireflies. The sunlight streaming through the large windows in that hallway made Eren’s face glow a golden hue, and to the brown-eyed male, it seemed like a halo was perched on top of his head. The highlights in Eren’s soft brown hair, the soft, rosy flush of his cheeks, and his cupid’s bow that would make even Cupid envious, pushed the other male to say something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re beautiful,” he blurted out. It took him a few seconds—and the realisation that Eren’s angry features had melted into a confused look—for him to process what he said. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to—do you need help?” He stuttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren shook his head, still dumbfounded. “No—I think I’m okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” the stranger nodded. “I’ll see you around?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren nodded. That was the weirdest experience he had in a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What Eren didn’t know was that in that moment, a love poem was written—a substitute for a prayer. Those two words were going to change his zombie-like trance, and for once, perhaps his dream would be something he could touch with his fingertips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said he had a mullet? And some facial hair?” Armin asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Light brown hair. Half-undercut, half-mullet?” Eren shook his head, looking down at the book in front of him. “I don’t know, he’s weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course he’s weird,” Armin agreed. “He called you beautiful right after bumping into you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two boys were in the library for their usual study session. The library was another one of the webcomic’s beautifully drawn infrastructure; the gentle sunlight that poured in through the windows made the wooden interior look much more elegant than it really was. Armin, who was another side character (who, of course, was blessed with a name), was Eren’s closest friend, and about ninety percent of his impulse control. Armin was the brains to Eren’s brawn. They completed each other, despite the both of them only having a few written personality traits in the story. It was odd, for two side characters to be living that way, but Eren thought it was alright. It hadn’t cost him anything yet, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you found anything yet?” Armin asked. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against a bookshelf; in his hands were one of the many yearbooks that were stocked in the library. It was going to be a hassle trying to find this particular person amongst all those pages, as they weren’t even sure in which episode he was created, but Armin didn’t complain. As long as it brought peace to Eren’s heart, he was ready to help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren shook his head in reply. Sitting across from Armin, he flipped through yet another yearbook. He assumed that the stranger would be around his age, as he didn’t seem all that old; that meant that his picture and name should be somewhere around Eren’s class, so he located himself in the yearbook first, then looked at the pages that came before and after it. Eren’s assumption was correct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even though he was correct, he could do nothing but sigh in defeat when he looked into the same almond eyes. The stranger was there, and he looked exactly the same as he did when he bumped into Eren; there was no doubt that it was him. But—“No name,” he announced, putting the yearbooks back on the shelf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin looked at Eren sadly, trying to form the words that would help comfort his best friend. Both of them knew then that Eren would have to accept the painful fact—that his meeting with the stranger was simply a one-time thing, an ice cube that quickly melted under the summer heat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He spent his days up on the roof of the academy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was all he could do as a character that was nowhere close to being relevant. His grades didn’t matter—he had no name, no student ID, no track record—so what was the point of going to class with everyone else? He would only be wasting his time. At least while up on the roof, he could feel something other than the crippling anxiety that one day, he’ll be so irrelevant that the author would forget to draw him in. (It was a fear he’d been holding in for a long time now.) At least while up on the roof, he could feel the sunlight gently stroking his skin, basking him in warmth that was enough to replace the arms of another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dream was to fall in love. He wanted to do so many things: to have someone’s roseate face shrink into their arms at his words; to hold someone until his arms become their home; to hold someone’s face in his hands and lean in, professing his everlasting love; to find his smile in another person’s; to have someone, and let that someone have him. The problem is he never knew who that someone could be, and he knew that the universe wouldn’t grant him that person to begin with. His roommate—a bald boy around his age, who also had no name—always told him what a waste it would be for him to fall in love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if the author forgets about you?” He would ask. “Then your lover has to forget about you and grieve, because you simply don’t even exist anymore. You’ll only be burdening someone else. Remember the rule of thumb—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—no name, no chance,” he mumbled as he looked up at the blue sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the thing about the universe is this: you’ll never be able to know the plans it has for you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi, mullet boy!” The said person turned around to where the voice was coming from. He expected a person—not an angel. The angel approached him, walking closer; was it possible to look this ethereal in the school uniform? One had to wonder how a person was so blessed; maybe he was one of the author’s favourites, the brown-eyed male thought. “What do you think? Do I still look beautiful now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could only gulp in response, not sure what to reply to that question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren, on the other hand, smiled for the first time in ages, giggling at the other’s dumbfounded reaction. As Eren took a seat next to him, he said, “I didn’t know that you liked being up here—granted, I don’t know you all that well—but I can see why you like it. It’s pretty.” Eren whipped his head to his left, a smile still decorating his usually stoic face. “What’s your name?” He knew the answer to that question, but he wanted to hear it from the person’s own mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—I don’t have one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Eren replied. To tell the truth, he had been thinking about that for a while now. What name would suit the boy with the half-undercut, half-mullet? What name would bring out his attractiveness, but wouldn’t be so bold that it would draw unwanted attention to him? Finally, after a moment’s hesitation, Eren blurted out, “Jean Kirstein.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jean Kirstein?” The other male questioned, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren shrugged. “Don’t you think it suits you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll have to get used to it.” Eren pouted at the reply, but brushed it off. They spent the rest of recess break—because Eren had to “go back to class”—talking about everything and nothing, all at once. Jean found out that Eren was a side character, introduced in the tenth episode to push forward the first romance arc of the story. Eren found out that Jean liked many things that he’d never tried before: blue popsicles, the food from the vendors on the side of the street, and riding motorcycles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean didn’t have a name before that day, but he lived more than Eren ever did. Eren wondered if maybe he’ll be able to live like that, too. That night, he dreamt of blue skies and his hair flowing in the wind as he sat on a motorcycle, racing past the academy’s gates and driving into the city. It didn’t seem so out of reach now; the stars were getting closer to the Earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, Jean thought of a name for his roommate, but scratched out all the ideas. He wasn’t good with names like Eren was; he wondered how Eren even thought of the name Jean Kirstein. Beneath the soft glow of his desk light, he wrote the second part to the love poem, and put a bookmark in his memory so he could visit this day again in the future, if he couldn’t meet Eren again. ‘The day I was given a name.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Armin said. It was the only thing he’d said for the past half an hour while Eren’s been rambling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been three weeks. Three weeks of Eren spending his lunch breaks on the roof with Jean, three weeks of Jean coming back to class only because he knew Eren was in the same class as him. Three weeks of the two of them finding out the secrets of the universe in each other’s hands. They started their days with each other, and ended their days dreaming of each other. To Jean, Eren was the warmth he never had; the boy who made him feel like the main character of a movie; the person in his dreams, the person the universe destined for him. To Eren, Jean was the flood of relief at the end of a tiring, mundane day; the person who made him feel like life is more than just the little things; the one who taught him that with love came a new sense of life that wasn’t unlocked before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the fact that he was merely a background character, Eren still embraced Jean; Eren accepted all of Jean’s shortcomings and mistakes. Because of Eren, Jean wanted to be a better man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what has he done for you?” Armin asked. “He’s going to class, as he should. But is that it? What does he do for you, that makes up for all you’ve done for you? A relationship should be give-and-take, Eren.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shared heart-fluttering moments, Eren tried to explain. Like that time in pottery class when Jean guided his hands, holding him from behind and resting his chin on Eren’s shoulder. Or that time Eren asked what God Jean believed in, expecting that he’ll answer the author, but answered with something more poetic—“Whichever one created you.” Or perhaps the time Eren tried a blue popsicle for the first time, and Jean bought a red one for himself; when Eren asked why Jean didn’t get the blue one, Jean replied, “Because I want to try making purple with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A relationship,” Armin explained back, “is more than the heart-fluttering parts. You should know that. If he only makes your heart flutter, he’s only a crush—that’s not true love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I’ve never been in love,” Eren replied. “Why are you so persistent that I shouldn’t be with him? What has he ever done to you, anyways?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armin sighed. “It’s not like that, Eren. It’s just—he didn’t have a name before you gave him one. He’s nothing but a background character.” Eren’s heart raced at that sentence, filling with rage. How dare he? How dare Armin say that his Jean is nothing but a background character? “I know it’s hard to accept, and I know it hurts, but that’s the fact. Jean is a nameless background character.” Armin looked Eren in the eyes, his gaze growing more serious, more dark. “You know what happens to them, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren knew. Eren knew about the girl with brown hair tied up in a ponytail, who the author simply forgot about, and disappeared in the eighth episode. Although he never met her, that girl’s story served as a warning, as a reminder—that is what happens to those who are not important, to those who are of no use to the author and to any characters around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren thought for a while. Although Jean pulled him in like gravity, that didn’t mean that he was useful to him. His touch was like summer, but that meant that he couldn’t offer the gentle warmth of spring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Eren changed. Eren changed ever since he knew Jean. That must mean something, right? That must mean that Jean couldn’t disappear, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren stayed awake that night for the first time in forever. The anxiety seeped in as he curled under his blankets, like the shadow of a monster that lived under his bed. It crept into his heart and clawed its way to ripping Eren’s heart open—it was so close to succeeding. He couldn’t take his heart and break it, pretending that Jean was never there; Jean had taken up too much space that Eren was sure he would suffocate without him. Yet even just being there, lying down with Jean in his heart, he felt like he was suffocating—the air was too stale and he was left gasping for breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt like the beginning of the end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were no stars in the sky. Of course, why would there be any stars? What was there to shine for? It felt like Ray Bradbury’s short story—the last night before the end of the world. Eren breathed in the cold air, but it wasn’t refreshing at all—it still felt stale. Perhaps it was true, what people said about heartbreak; that heartbreak could affect you physically. Perhaps it wasn’t Jean who would be erased from the story, but Eren.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Under the dark blue tint of the night sky, he found a silhouette walking outside of the dormitory, making its way to the staircase to get to the roof. Eren’s hands started shaking, but it wasn’t because of the cold; no, it wasn’t even cold that night, but Eren’s chest was freezing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jean,” he called out. The silhouette stopped in its tracks, but didn’t turn around. That little action—or lack of action—made Eren’s heart sting with hurt. “Jean,” he called out another time. When he saw no movement yet again, he took it upon himself to run towards Jean, although his legs felt weak and his knees felt like they were going to give way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean turned around just in time for Eren to crash right into his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My Jean,” Eren whispered. “My Jean, nobody can take my Jean away from me…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eren?” Jean asked, his voice softer than a flower petal. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren looked up at Jean. Just looking at the taller male’s face made his eyes well up with tears and his heart ache, knowing that the future was out of their grasp. “You have to promise to me. You have to promise that even though the world changes, you won’t change. I won’t change either, so you can’t change! You can’t—you can’t leave me. You have to promise that you won’t leave!” Eren bit his lip, trying to swallow down the cloud full of rain that was blocking his throat. “It’s unfair—you can’t leave me when I already love you this much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean was at a loss for words. He felt like if he tried to string up a sentence, he would only say the wrong things. But he had to try, he had to say something—for Eren’s sake. “Eren… I would take all the stars from the night sky just for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But can you promise me?” Eren persisted. “Can you promise me that you won’t go away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean hesitated. After what felt like forever, he said, “I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In those two words, Eren found his answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A week passed by without Jean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A week that felt like hell to Eren.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every day, he wondered whether Jean had been taken away from him. Perhaps he was—he hadn’t done anything but make Eren cry for the past week, anyways. Perhaps the author was doing Eren a favour by no longer drawing him. Perhaps Jean was no longer going to class because of one reason and one reason only: that he no longer existed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no funeral. No burial. Background characters don’t receive that luxury. It was most likely better off that way; that way, Eren wouldn’t feel the grief for much longer than he needed to. He went back to reading his script out loud, to doing what he had to and nothing more. As if everything he went through with Jean meant nothing, Eren went back into his zombie-like trance, living his mundane life and dreaming about things that he couldn’t touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first snow came sooner than they had expected. Eren always hated the winter, and this time he would hate it even more. He expected warmth this winter. He expected the arms of another to take care of him throughout the cold and unforgiving season. Now, it seemed, he had to fight the snowstorms himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were no words to express the regret that Armin felt. Maybe he should’ve left Eren alone, shouldn’t have meddled in his business with Jean. What right did he have anyways, to pick apart Eren’s love life like that? He was merely a side character—for all he knew, he could suffer the same fate as Jean. Nobody knew the future, anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so that’s why, when he was asked for a favour, Armin didn’t hesitate to accept it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren walked into the unused classroom calling Armin’s name. It was dark—Eren hated the dark. No, he didn’t hate the dark. He was terrified of the dark. For what reason, he was unsure; perhaps it was a little quirk that the author decided to add in. He hated the fact that he was afraid of the dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, a light flashed from behind him. A projector, it seemed. Oh. There was a screen in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A map of all the stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the most beautiful thing he’d seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I’ll give you all the stars in the night sky.” A voice said from behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren could only reply bitterly, holding back his tears. “But you couldn’t promise me that you would stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Jean had grabbed his arm and forced him to turn around. It had been so long since he last stared into those brown eyes that he felt a wave of nostalgia and hurt when he saw them. They looked darker without the sunlight; or maybe it was because Jean was becoming more serious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I promised you now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I told you that I loved you? I know that those words are overrated, but I can’t help but say them, because this is how I truthfully feel about you. I love you with all my heart, Eren. What would you do then?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I told you that even though I lived, even though I ate blue popsicles and rode a motorcycle, I didn’t know the world was this bright before I held you in my arms? You called out to me, and although your breath was soft and delicate, it held more life in it than anything I’d ever known. Every single heart-fluttering moment made me feel like I was truly living—even when I would feel jealous of your friends, or insecure of the fact that I’m lower than you, you still felt like the sunshine that came to me after a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You, Eren—you’re like spring. A new beginning, a new world. But you were a season that would never come again. When I let go of you, albeit to protect you, I realised that. I realised that for once, I wanted to be greedy, because I wanted to see your flower petals again. I didn’t want the roses in my heart to bloom for nothing, I didn’t want them to wither. I’m self-centered for saying this, but I want you, even if it means going against what’s meant for me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If the author is God and this is the garden of Eden, you are my apple. And truthfully, I couldn’t care less about obeying the rules right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t expect you to return my feelings,” Jean confessed. “But at least, I want you to know that I always have loved you, and I don’t want you to cry anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eren replied, “How—how do I not cry when you just gave me that beautiful speech and—how do I not—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Many books described kisses as something fantastical. So very romantic, so very special. This kiss was one of those; one that brought the sun up every morning and inspired the flowers to bloom in spring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, my Jean.” Eren whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “Nobody can take you away from me.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yeah, i'm not satisfied with the ending, but it's late, my coffee rush is fading, and i need to sleep. goodnight everyone.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>